


nobody special now

by Crazyloststar



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Astrals Being Assholes (Final Fantasy XV), Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grim Reapers, Human Umbra (Final Fantasy XV), Inspired by Dead Like Me, Loneliness, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Post-World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyloststar/pseuds/Crazyloststar
Summary: After the dawn breaks, Noctis finds himself waking up.But not on the throne.And he isn't alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during a sprint event in the Book Club discord, and thought it was fun, spooky idea, so figured why not post it today?
> 
> Happy Halloween!

“Well now, that took longer than I thought,” a low, soft voice rang out around Noctis, rattling in his head.

He struggled to open his eyes against the bright light shining directly above him. It certainly didn’t help him try to piece together what was happening. When he finally managed to focus, he saw a blue hue around the light, and realized...

...The sun…

He sat up. He felt no pain, not in his chest, not in his knee. He pressed a palm flat against the spot where just moments before he had felt the swords of his ancestors driving into him.

Was he dead?

He looked around. He was in one of the citadel meeting rooms, the roof blown off years ago. A wind howled above him. He couldn’t see anyone to account for the voice that had woken him.

“Come now, we need to leave before they return.”

He whipped around to see a tall man in a trench coat standing against the far wall, arms crossed in front of him nonchalantly. He had long, dark grey hair, and a stark white scar slashed across his face.

His eyes were unnatural. Yellow.

“What’s going on?” Noctis swung his legs off the table and froze.

On the table, his body didn’t move. But he touched his own chest. He touched the chair. He touched the...other...body’s leg. He looked back up at the man and resisted the urge to cling to the body lying on the table.

“I asked you a question.” Noctis repeated in an attempt to not sound like he was terrified.

The man waved his hand. “I’ve spent the last 20 years following orders and delivering letters. For once, you will listen to _me_.”

Noctis would have choked on air, if he needed it to breathe.

* * *

It wasn’t until they were in what was left of Noctis’s old room, since half the floor was missing, that he could finally get them to stop walking.

“So let me get this straight, you’re Umbra, in human form--”

“My original form. I was a dog only to serve my purpose for the Astrals.”

“And now I’m not dead --”

“You are --”

Noctis rubbed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. “I’m dead, and the sun rose, so why am I _here_? Didn’t I do everything I was supposed to?”

Umbra laughed, “Sometimes the gods have a sense of humor,”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you even understand the meaning of the skulls that emblazon the Lucis Caelum crest?”

Noctis clenched his fists. “It’s a reference to Etro.”

Umbra stepped up to him. “Yes, you’re right that part of the worship centers around them, but Etro isn’t symbolized with a skull.”

Noctis stared at him.

“Grim Reapers, however, are.”

“I think I liked you better when you didn’t speak.” Noctis didn’t understand where Umbra was going with any of this. So his family crest was a skull, which happened to look like the terrifying reapers. What was that supposed to mean?

Umbra didn’t give away any indication he was annoyed. He waved his hand over Noctis, and something vibrated through his body.

“Reapers, before they were daemonized, always existed. But they don’t look like what you’ve fought. They look like humans. Normal, unassuming. And they are how the royal line has continued to thrive for two thousand years.”

Umbra motioned to a mirror. Noctis glanced at it, and when he didn’t immediately move Umbra pushed him forward by the shoulders.

“What the fuck,” Noctis whispered after he stood in front of it and still didn’t understand because -- “that’s not _me.” _

“It is now,” Umbra stood beside him. Noctis jumped because the person in the mirror was also not the person standing beside him. In the mirror, Umbra looked like a hunter in rough attire, tan skin and dark hair buzzed short. Noctis looked…

He stepped closer to the mirror and poked his cheek. He looked younger than the brief time he was able to be thirty before he died. His long blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and he was dressed in casual jeans and a sweatshirt. It was entirely disorienting. He hated it.

“The dead kings and queens, the ones who did not ascend like the thirteen who are most revered, they had the sacred duty of becoming reapers. Immortal beings who follow the Lucis line and ensure the will of the gods come to fruition, and act as messengers.”

Noctis’s eyes went wide. “Wait, so you-”

Umbra nodded his head. “Unfortunately, I didn’t listen one too many times, and so was changed until I fulfilled my punishment.”

He turned away from the mirror, both transfixed and a little horrified. “So wait, I can just. Walk around? In public?”

He grabbed Umbra. “I can see them!”

Hands gripped his forearms. “You cannot make contact with your past, Noctis.”

“I-what?”

“That is one of the rules, and disobeying has consequences.”

“But I’m already dead!”

“And you must remain so to the world.”

Noctis froze. Umbra lifted his arms off him and brushed at his shoulders. “If you reveal to anyone who knew you, who you were before, they will be struck down.”

He ran a hand through his hair and clung tight.

“So I’m here, but I can’t-, I can’t see the most important people in my life? I can’t -- let them know I’m okay?”

Umbra shook his head. “Not if you want them to live. They aren’t a part of your life anymore.”

Umbra stepped away from the mirror, leaving Noctis there, staring at the stranger in the reflection. He wanted to slam his fist into the glass. 

“Come, we have much to discuss, Noctis.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis tried to pull his arm out of the hold, but Umbra held strong. “If I'm not supposed to acknowledge my past, then why are we at my funeral?” 
> 
> “It is part of the process,” Umbra whispered. “You must see those you knew before say their farewells, so you can remember that to them, you are gone. You must _look_ but not speak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written during the November sprint event in the book club. 
> 
> Prompt:   
_Person A: Goodbye_

“We honor our King of Light, and will do so as long as there is dawn,” the words echoed around the garden over loudspeakers.

Noctis’s breath caught as he looked over the crowd in front of him. “Specs. That’s Specs!”

Umbra grabbed him by the arm as he stepped forward, halting his movement. “We’ve been over this.” He muttered under his breath.

Noctis tried to pull his arm out of the hold, but Umbra held strong. “If I'm not supposed to acknowledge my past, then why are we at my funeral?”

“It's part of the process,” Umbra whispered. “You must see those you knew before say their farewells, so you can remember that to them, you are gone. You must _look_ but not speak.”

Noctis kept his face turned towards Umbra. When he didn’t move, Umbra moved forward, pulling Noctis. “You cannot hide from this. Let us get it over with.”

“Hey, would you stop- hey!” Noctis whispered as loudly as he could.

Ignis had finished his speech. People applauded politely and a line formed to go up the makeshift stage so that the public could walk by their King. Umbra headed towards the front, not too close, but close enough that finally Noctis could see them clearly-

There the three of them stood, so close. Nearly as close as they had been when he had said goodbye to them on the steps. The body Noctis once knew rested in a stone sarcophagus before them.

“They will build your tomb around you.” Umbra spoke softly, releasing his arm. Noctis couldn't stop staring at his friends, standing over his body. Ignis had both hands gripping the side of the stone. Prompto had an arm around Ignis’s waist, back straight, and Gladio stood on the other side, staring down at Noctis’s body. Tears stained their faces.

Before he realized it, tears streamed down his own cheeks. “I don’t want them to go through this.”

“No one ever does.” Umbra looked over at the line of people. Cor stood at the front, and once he had a signal from Gladio, people could walk up.

His friends stepped towards Noctis’s head, standing at attention; their last duty as his Kingsglaive.

Noctis let out a sob. “Please, let me just - “

“We have been over this.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and wiped his sleeve over his face. He wanted so badly to go up there, tell them how proud he was of them.

He watched as people walked by, bowing to them, and touching the stone. Never his body. It would be the only time anyone would be allowed to see the final resting place of the Chosen King.

He swallowed, and moved away from Umbra towards the back of the line.

“Hey!” Umbra caught up to him quickly. A few people looked in their direction, so Umbra just followed beside him. “What are you doing?”

“I just want to pay my respects.” Noctis got in the line.

Umbra looked visibly annoyed, but stood beside him as they slowly moved forward.

“You know the rules.”

Noctis shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. “I know. I won’t break any rules.”

The line moved, and soon it was almost time for Noctis to face Cor, and walk up the steps, to walk past his friends. His friends, who had to bury him. Who had to, once again, live life without him. They had just a few short days, once he had returned, together.

He wished they had gotten more time.

He had to think of a plan, to somehow work past the rules of this new life.

When he looked up at Cor’s face, he saw a sadness there he had never imagined before from The Immortal. Cor only gave him a cursory glance, before looking back towards the coffin. The person before stepped away. Cor flagged Noctis past -

His hand stopped in front of Umbra. Noctis looked behind him.

“Only one at a time,” it was a command, not a request.

Noctis looked at Umbra, who’s eyes flashed with a warning. He turned away and faced his friends - who weren’t even looking at him.

Well, they were. Just the him who laid there on the stone, unmoving.

Noctis took a shaky step forward. He thought, as he had stood down on the lawn, that he could do this. But now that he was so close to them, he wasn’t so sure. At the stone that was his...his old body’s...final resting place, he rested a hand on the edge, felt the cold against his palm. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at his friends standing at attention like this wasn’t the hardest thing they’d ever had to endure.

“Thank you,” Noctis said, quietly. He forced himself to look up.

They stood tall, eyes looking over Noctis’s head, so they didn’t have to make eye contact. Noctis swallowed and bowed at the waist.

“Thank you for everything,” he said a little louder, his voice shaking and tears flowing freely. When he chanced lifting his head, he caught Prompto’s glance, and couldn’t stop the sob.

Prompto squeezed his eyes tight. He pressed his fist to his heart and nodded.

Ignis had tilted his head a little, catching onto Prompto’s movement, and did the same. Gladio, then, followed. Noctis stood up, and studied them. Really, truly, looked at them.

“I’m sure...I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

At that, Ignis turned his head, and if he could see, Noctis wondered what he might see. Could he somehow see through the power of the gods, see through the tangled ponytail and scruffy face, see the familiar blue of his eyes?

It was wishful thinking, Noctis knew. But he wasn’t done.

“We’ll all make him proud,” Noctis continued, “we’ll all make his sacrifice, and yours, worth something.”

Ignis stayed focused on him - he knew he couldn't really see him, but knew Ignis could get a sense of where he stood.

“Thank you,” Ignis whispered.

Noctis didn’t want to leave. Not yet, not when this could be the last time that he could have any reason to be this close to them. He looked back down to his body. He wasn’t ready, he didn’t want to leave them. He hadn’t been ready before, not truly, and now faced with this, he felt even less ready. He wanted to stay, to laugh with them, to see them all smile, to tell them again how much he loved them -

He didn’t realize he had fallen to his knees until two sets of hands were on his elbows. Gladio on one side, Prompto on the other, and the _feeling_ of them, their hands gripping him, and being so close, it only made Noctis want to cry harder. He felt so childish, for how loudly he let out a sob.

Then another set of hands, whispered apologies. Umbra was there, pulling Noctis up. Offering his thanks to them. And then before he knew it, Noctis was being led away.

His body fought against this. It was too soon, it wasn't fair.

He turned in Umbra’s grip and looked back. The three of them were watching him. Prompto had a look of concern, and Gladio was whispering in Ignis’s ear, probably about what had happened.

“Goodbye,” Noctis said as loud as he could without shouting.

He surely imagined how Prompto’s eyes widened and he stepped forward, before Gladio reached for him to pull him back as another person stepped up to them.

He whispered one more time as Umbra led him away.

“Goodbye.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just...tonight will be the last night, okay? It’s...this used to be my favorite holiday with these guys.” 
> 
> Umbra’s stare flicked over his head to where the others stood before coming back to him. “Like I said, I won’t keep forcing you. But you know the risks you put yourself, and them in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written during the December sprint event in the book club.
> 
> Prompt: It’s Character A’s [or more than one person's] first Holiday since a tragedy.

Noctis swirled his drink as he sat at the bar. He watched the condensation drag across the wood. He tuned out the sounds of the bar around him, and focused on the cold glass in his hand.

“Another?”

He managed to not flinch, somehow, at hearing that familiar voice. He had been doing better lately. Though Umbra would say being where he was at all proved different. He looked up to Gladio’s smiling face - but it was his fake smile. One reserved for people he didn’t know.

Which made sense, because Gladio didn’t know him, not anymore. All Gladio saw when he looked at Noctis was a thirty-something guy with blond hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the start of a shitty beard on his face.

He wondered if Gladio ever thought he recognized him from the funeral.

“Sure,” Noctis pushed the glass forward with two fingers towards the edge. Gladio flipped a bottle around and poured a shot of gin, added a squeeze of lemon, and moved it back.

Then he was gone, helping others with that same smile.

“What are you doing, with this place open today anyways?” The folks Gladio was helping asked. “Ain’t you got family?”

“We did our celebration this morning.” Gladio shrugged. “I figured there are people out there who don’t have anyone.”

“Besides!” A voice shouted out from behind them. This one did make Noctis flinch. He only hoped it wasn’t obvious. “He’s got us to keep him company all night, right Iggy?”

“Of course.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis watched Prompto and Ignis step up to the bar to his right. There - There was Gladio’s real smile. He reached across the bar and hugged them both.

“Good to see you both.”

“You too, big guy.”

Noctis closed his eyes. Took a breath, focused on his drink.

“I don't know why you keep doing this to yourself.” A voice whispered over his left shoulder.

He sighed. He looked back down at his drink. “Hello, Umbra.”

“You’re torturing yourself.”

“I’m just checking in on them.”

“You’ll never move on at this rate.”

Noctis took a drink, clicking glancing over to Umbra as he did. “Maybe I don't want to.”

Umbra hadn’t taken a seat. He stood at the stool, hand on the bar. He leaned close to Noctis and kept his voice low. “I won’t keep forcing you, but eventually this will play out one of two ways.”

Noctis finally lifted his chin to look Umbra in the eye. What he saw was of course different than everyone else - those haunting yellow eyes pierced through him.

“Either you will go insane and turn into a grim reaper - like those daemons you used to fight. Or you will slip up and reveal yourself to your friends, and they will die.”

“Look can you...” he caught that his voice was a touch louder than he expected. He paused and squeezed his glass.

“Hey, this guy bothering you?” Suddenly Gladio stood in front of them both. Noctis didn’t look up.

“No no, it’s fine. He’s a...a friend.”

Gladio grunted, then moved away once more after a beat. He could hear his three friends talking in hushed voices.

“Just...tonight will be the last night, okay? It’s...this used to be my favorite holiday with these guys.”

Umbra’s stare flicked over his head to where the others stood before coming back to him. “Like I said, I won’t keep forcing you. But you know the risks you put yourself, and them in.”

He nodded. Umbra let out a deep sigh, knocked once on the bar, and then left.

Noctis went back to nursing his drink. Umbra was right and he knew it. Noctis had been tempting fate for weeks, coming by on random evenings to Gladio’s bar ever since it opened. He hadn’t talked to more than Gladio, and only in the context of ordering drinks. Prompto and Ignis had hardly been by more than a couple of times. Every time he was off their radar. Every time he was just another guy in the bar, sipping his gin.

He had hated the gin at first. But he remembered Ignis had enjoyed it, before.

“Your friend left you on Winter Solstice?” Prompto’s voice carried over. Noctis gripped his glass. He took another drink.

“Prompto, leave the guy alone.”

“What?”

“He's here like...every week.” Gladio's voice dropped to a whisper, but Noctis could still hear, could still pick out _how _he spoke. “I don't think he has much of anyone. That was the first time I've seen someone even talk to him.”

He heard Prompto take in a breath. Noctis immediately knew what he was thinking.

Prompto always had been prone to taking in strays.

Noctis set one foot on the ground and started to move.

“Hey dude!” A hand gripped his shoulder and he looked up into violet blue eyes. He wondered, in that moment, what Prompto saw. Was there any chance he could see something familiar, in Noctis’s eyes? He still had the same color blue.

Prompto smiled. “You wanna drink with us? You shouldn’t be alone ya know.”

Noctis imagined how the night would play out. How they would all instantly connect, get along like old pals. He would see them more often in the bar. They would get closer. He would get invited to their home. He would start to see them all the time. They would keep getting closer.

And all the while it wouldn't be fair. Because Noctis would know more about them than they ever would about him. And, would he be able to avoid slipping up? Would he avoid going crazy?

Noctis politely moved out from under Prompto’s grip. He tried to ignore how his touch felt on his arm. He caught the subtle shift in his face - curiosity, concern. “I’m alright. But thanks, appreciate it.”

He adjusted his coat to prepare for the snowy weather outside and offered a polite wave to the three of them. Then he turned and walked out the door. He hadn't planned on leaving so soon, but he hadn’t planned on them talking to him, either.

Outside, he leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. It was a terrible habit Umbra got him into, but since he was already dead what did it matter, anyways.

“Smoking is bad for you, don’t you know?” The voice this time made him obviously flinch. He almost said Ignis’s name out loud in response. Instead he took another drag, and made a point of loudly blowing the smoke out before looking to Ignis, standing there beside him.

“What’s it to you?” he said without thinking better of it.

Ignis tilted his head. Noctis worried - if there was anyone who could figure this out, it was him. “Concerned citizen, is all. You’re sure you’re alright? It’s a tough time to be alone.”

Noctis sighed. Of course. Things had been rough as people returned to Insomnia and discovered just how wrecked everything was, confirmed how much was lost. It had been a tough few months.

“Ya, thanks Sp-.” He coughed to cover up his slip. “Thanks for checking. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Ignis stared at him another moment - Noctis took another drag. Then he dropped the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it.

“Happy holidays,” he said as he walked away.

“Happy Holidays,” he heard Ignis say.

Umbra was right. This would drive him crazy.

But maybe he didn’t care.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People were moving on, living their life. They didn’t need him, a king, to keep them going. 
> 
> Or so he kept telling himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written during the December sprint event 
> 
> Prompt:   
Character A and Character B meeting because they're neighbors. Character B is singing in the shower at night, and Character A comes to complain because they have really thin walls.

Noctis walked into the elevator and hit the button for floor 11 after his shift at the sushi place down the street. He had finally earned enough money through odd jobs over the course of a few months to afford a small loft on his own. He picked something nearby where he had lived before the fall of Insomnia. He liked being able to see the citadel in the distance. It made him feel like some things maybe hadn’t changed.

Not having to live with Umbra was the biggest perk. The guy was a neat freak beyond anything he had encountered before, and Noctis was still adjusting to life without --

\-- to life on his own.

In the rebuilding of the city, most apartments were just studios - it was easier than to add rooms where many walls had fallen, and multiple room suites could be turned into several homes. It was brilliant.

Noctis assumed it was Ignis’s idea.

The elevator pinged as it stopped at his floor. He exited and made his way down the long hallway. He could hear music, or people talking loudly, or dogs barking.

It was tight quarters, but it was fine. Noctis didn’t need much space to live in, and he liked that it was so bustling around him all the time. It was a reminder that they won, that everything they had sacrificed had been worth it. People were moving on, living their life. They didn’t need him, a king, to keep them going.

Or so he kept telling himself.

Noctis was fine with observing life all around him, but he was reticent to interact these days.

He hadn’t seen the guys since that night in Gladio’s bar during Winter Solstice. He had been making a stronger effort to avoid them, despite how much he wanted to break the rules. Losing himself in jobs and the goal of moving away from Umbra had kept him distracted. He was fine working with Umbra on reaper jobs, but living with him and working had become suffocating.

Walking into his loft, he was met with the usual silence. Working at the sushi place was something Umbra had rolled his eyes at - it was nostalgic, but he had the skill set and was able to jump into the job pretty easy thanks to muscle memory. And that really, it hadn’t felt like over 10 years since he had that job. He was just making the sushi rice and closing the shop every night, but even that was a good way to just lose time. He could focus on that and not let his thoughts dwell on other things.

Sleep. Reap. Work. Repeat.

He tossed his keys onto the counter and toed off his shoes. He bent down to the small personal fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. He had a bag of leftovers for dinner, which he set down on the counter as he collapsed on a rickety bar stool. His room was one of the smaller ones - about the size of a generous sized hallway. He figured it was once exactly that, and he was living amid one of the apartments that had once been a luxurious commodity. If he tipped back on the stool, he could almost touch the other wall. His futon mattress was on the floor against the wall to his right, and to his left was the door to the bathroom.

Very small, but cozy. It worked for him.

It was about two in the morning as he had his dinner, which meant he would shove food in his mouth and pass out until midday. Umbra had texted him that morning with an address, name, and the time of one o’clock. So, he had some time.

There was one news channel back up and running, and he scanned their site for the latest. He paused over a photo of Ignis, looking like he was pointing up at a building. The headline read “Scientia approves plan for more jobs!”

Noctis took a large sip of beer. He scrolled down.

From the right he heard something like shouting, and he jumped in his seat.

He hadn’t met any of his neighbors yet - he purposefully worked the night shift since he refused to put himself through waking up early willingly except for reaper work. So by the time he got home most folks were already inside their homes. He had seen a few small families, but in this building it was mostly couples or individuals.

Another scream echoed out. It was followed by softer screams. He set down his drink and listened as the sound continued.

Singing. His neighbor was _singing_.

He sighed and hopped onto his bed, ear pressed up to the wall. Since this was most likely part of the same apartment that was one of the downsides - thin walls.

The person kept singing, and Noctis’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized the song - it was from pre-fall, from one of the most popular rock bands that had been on the radio.

And it had been one of _their_ songs.

He slid down the wall, knees curled up and back against it, head tilted back. As the words filled the small room, he closed his eyes and recalled him and Prompto singing in bed in his apartment. He and Gladio singing while they trained. He and Ignis humming it while cooking.

The four of them singing along to it in the car as they drove out of Insomnia, waving goodbye to the city walls.

Noctis took in a deep breath and opened his eyes as the guy stopped signing. Then closed his eyes tight as the singing started again.

He usually wasn’t one to complain but this...this was too much.

Hopping off the bed, he grabbed a beer from the fridge in hopes it would placate the person for him knocking on their door so late. Never mind the fact that he was being loud, Whatever.

Not bothering with slippers, he stepped out of his place and walked next door. He hesitated. Then knocked.

He heard someone moving around, a curse word whispered. Then locks getting moved. The knob turned.

He looked up as the door swung open.

Noctis met eyes like an ocean’s sunrise, blue and purple, framed by wet blond hair.

“Yeah?” Prompto asked. He stood at the door with a towel around his waist.

The bottle slipped from Noctis’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :333


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey dude, you alright?” Prompto’s voice called out. 
> 
> Noctis wanted to reply with the truth so badly because no, no he wasn't alright. He was far from fucking _alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen the only direction this story is for sure going in right is pain so just. know that. 
> 
> The prompt for this one was Character A has two choices. Neither is good.They must choose one. They have three minutes.

The bottle never hit the ground. Prompto, despite having only a towel around him, still managed to move fast enough to catch it with the hand not keeping him decent. As he straightened back up, arm outstretched, Noctis found he still couldn't speak. 

His mind was pummeled with memories of the last time they looked at each other. How Prompto’s eyes had been watery and his jaw set. How he looked like he was trying to memorize Noctis’s face. 

How Prompto had looked at him when they had found him in the keep - a time that, to Noctis, hadn’t felt like the over a decade ago that it was. The way Prompto had stared down at him and promised to always be by his side. 

And then it was Noctis who had left him. 

The way Prompto looked at him now wasn’t like that. And ya, Noctis kind of hated it, hated how Prompto looked at him like he was a nobody, just some guy. 

Hey,” Prompto interrupted his spiral and acted as if to hand over the bottle back to Noctis. His eyes went from sleepy and half closed, to widening with recognition, but not the kind of recognition Noctis truly wanted. “You're that guy from the bar, right?”

Noctis’s throat constricted. He did the only thing he could reasonably do at that moment. He took one, then two steps back. Prompto tilted his head. 

Noctis turned and ran to his own place. He threw the door opened and slammed it against Prompto’s shouts. Looking around his small home he tried to sort out what to do next. Could he move, somewhere far away, and pray that the gods wouldn’t keep fucking with him. 

A knock at the door. Noctis jumped away from it and spun around to stare at its dark wood. 

“Hey dude, you alright?” Prompto’s voice called out. 

Noctis wanted to reply with the truth so badly because no, no he wasn't alright. He was far from fucking _alright_. He was lonely. He missed his friends. He missed being himself. He hated how he looked. He hated where he lived. He hated that he had to do reaper work because for some reason the astrals weren’t done using him for their purposes. 

He hated that he was once again trapped in a life someone else had set for him. A path he had no power to veer from. 

But that wasn’t Prompto’s fault. None of this was. Prompto had been just as jilted by the fates as anyone else. 

Noctis had two choices the way he saw it. He could open the door and talk to Prompto, like a decent human would given the situation. Or, he could not do any of that. Just leave the door closed and hide away in his shitty apartment and make sure to never see Prompto again. And probably move eventually, knowing Prompto was his godsdamn neighbor and he would see him again. 

In reality Noctis knew Prompto wouldn't let him be. If he stayed there and didn’t talk to him, Prompto would break through the wall, somehow. It was what he was good at - finding someone and helping them, breaking down their walls. Being a voice of reason and good, being a person that becomes the life raft after the ship sinks. 

Another knock. Noctis took in a deep breath and walked to the bathroom as he exhaled. He was very aware already how he looked to others, but he just needed to confirm. To make sure nothing had changed, that somehow the spell had lifted. 

A part of Noctis, though, wished for that very thing. Would the gods punish others if Noctis didn’t say anything but somehow, he just changed? But deep down he knew it wasn’t possible. His body was locked away in a tomb, behind stone that will never be moved again. Cold. 

_Dead_. 

In the bathroom, he pulled the towel off the mirror over the sink. It was the only mirror in the house, and he found early on he struggled with staring at his reflection when it wasn’t truly him. 

But now he faced the unfamiliar. With his angular jaw with a five o'clock shadow, and his long ashy blond hair pulled into a low ponytail. His almond shaped eyes with the blue that was the only thing familiar. 

He still wondered if Prompto would recognize him somehow. Wondered. Wished. Noctis draped the towel back over the mirror and walked out. He grabbed his one dark hoodie and pulled it on. 

Pausing, he didn’t hear Prompto at the door anymore. 

Noctis panicked. “Shit,” he said out loud. 

In theory, Noctis could just go on with his night, ignore his neighbor, yes. But Noctis realized this also brought with it the knowing that he had hurt Prompto’s feelings. Something he had never wanted to do. ever. in whatever life he was living. 

But if he approached Prompto, he knew deep in his heart they would instantly become friends. It would be so easy for them to fall into something like an old routine, and Prompto might just chalk it up to his own loneliness or trouble dealing with the last ten years of bullshit. But Noctis would be lying. To Prompto. To himself. How long would he be able to keep up a charade of getting to know his best friend all over again. 

The idea of hurting Prompto though weighed heavy on his chest and threatened to take his breath away, to swallow him up. He pressed a palm to his sternum. The ache there was very present now, something he assumed to be a phantom pain from his death. 

He grabbed the bottle of beer from the counter and took the few steps to his door and looked out the peephole to confirm Prompto was no longer standing there. 

Noctis rested his forehead against his door. The same thought ran through his mind at a speed he couldn’t stop. He didn't want to be someone who had hurt Prompto. Even if Prompto wouldn’t know it was _him_, Noctis would. He would remember. 

The sound of a door closing echoed, signaling that Prompto had given up. Noctis wanted to cry, to scream. He wanted to do so many things. 

But most of all, he wanted to talk to Prompto. 

Noctis pulled away from the door. He went over to his fridge to get another bottle of beer. At his door he took a few breaths before he opened his door and then moved, slowly, to the apartment next door where his best friend was. 

Music played softly on the other side. It was a different song, but he could hear movement, steps heavy, and the sound of plates clinging together. 

Noctis imagined Prompto’s face, his struggle with being hurt someone ran from him, that for a second time someone didn’t want to be around him. Noctis knew how much that would get to him, knew it would leave a mark and he would be upset for some time. He wanted to comfort Prompto, be there for him and take away at least that bit of pain. It was the least he could do considering everything Prompto had done for him, done for Insomnia. Hell, all of Eos. 

But would Noctis be able to handle talking to Prompto? Would he be able to avoid falling into old habits, old patterns, to protect his friends? Could he avoid being more selfish than he was already being in this moment standing at the door with beer in hand. 

He made to pull at his bangs with nervousness, only to be further reminded of his form because he didn’t have bangs, his hair long and pulled back. He looked at his hand and flexed the tan fingers. 

“Fuck.” he whispered. His voice was tight. He stretched out his arm, hand balled up in a fist. 

Noctis knocked, once. He would not knock again. If Prompto didn’t hear, then it wasn’t meant to happen, the fates would have shown how he was to live. 

But the music stopped, and he could hear footsteps as they approached. Noctis took a step backwards. There was a peephole, so he knew Prompto would be looking through first and so he schooled his expression into something casual, a soft smile to hide the fear that he had no idea what he was doing. 

As the door unlocked, he was struck with the realization that he had no idea what he was going to say or how to explain why he had run away from Prompto. Noctis swallowed as the door swung open, and he was once again face to face with sad eyes and a frown. 

Before Prompto could even speak, Noctis held up the beers. “Hey, I’m sorry.” Noctis tried to speak softly. He smiled and shrugged. “I’m not very good with people, lately.”

Prompto looked at the beer, then Noctis. He could tell he was being pensive. Unsure. He didn’t blame him. Maybe this was all a bad idea, maybe Prompto was going to tell him to fuck off and honestly, he had every right to. He didn’t need more shit to deal with. 

To Noctis’s surprise, instead of slamming the door in his face he reached out and took one of the bottles. He stepped back and held the door open. An invitation, to something Noctis wasn’t sure he was ready for. 

“Name’s Prompto.”

Noctis gripped the bottle still in his hand tight. “Nice to meet you, Prompto.” 

He stepped forward, and into his best friend’s apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //dabs


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think you’re so smart,” Umbra turned around to face him. 
> 
> Noctis shrugged and sat on a stool, popping a fry in his mouth. 
> 
> “I don’t think I'm much of anything, these days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been written to the prompt: _While checking the post Character A finds that a letter has been sent from their deceased partner._
> 
> ***
> 
> I want to take a moment here to just say that I hope everyone is doing well, and staying safe. This chapter was tough to write, for several reasons. It might not be my best work, but it gets some feelings across that I wanted to share. 
> 
> I'm sure it's the same for many right now, in that it's tough to create, when there is so much going on that feels so much more important than creating fanfic or fanart. Usually fandom is a place to hide, to have a distraction from the things that make us angry or sad, when the real world feels like its too much. But now spending that time creating and not trying to help the people who need support feels wrong. I feel guilty. I feel distracted. I feel so sad for the injustices suffered by so many people. I feel angry. I feel like I can't do enough.
> 
> But there are lots of great resources popping up to help those who want to offer their support to Black Lives Matter, and also to provide education on what is going on in our society, in our world. 
> 
> [This site is a great starting point.](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)
> 
> I will continue creating, but I will also make a point to bring awareness to the voices of those in need. Because writing is something I want to keep doing, but not at the cost of ignoring what is going on. I can't be out there protesting, but finding other ways to support BLM has made it feel like I'm doing something, rather than nothing. 
> 
> Stay safe. Much love to you all. Thank you for reading.

Calendars were the fucking worst invention. Sure, they helped keep Prompto organized, and when there was no sun that had been really needed. These days though they were mostly good at reminding him of all the shit he didn’t want to remember.

And so that’s how he found himself cursing pieces of paper as Prompto’s cup of tea had grown cold and he sat on his bed, trying to burn the calendar hung up on the wall by the door.

Of the three of them, Prompto was definitely handling things the worst. Or at least it sure as hell felt like he was. He had been losing himself in his work, in helping put the city back together, because it was what Noct would have wanted. That was really the only motivation. He was sure others knew it.

But there were always moments that brought the memory of Noct back into the front of his mind, blurring his vision. He had had a really tough time getting through the winter holidays. That fucking sucked. Almost as bad as the funeral.

And now that stupid calendar was oh so kindly letting him know they were coming up on a year since the dawn returned. Prompto wasn't sure he could do much more than hole up and drink. He knew Ignis and Gladio wouldn't let that happen.

Things still felt so weird, just the three of them, even though they had lived like that for ten years. Now it was the whole. Finality of it all. That it would always be just that - the three of them. When they had been in darkness, they still had hope that it would be four, and they allowed themselves hope and dreaming up all the things they would do when they were together again.

Prompto felt stupid for being so naive.

He needed to get out of his apartment. Prompto set down his tea and rolled off the bed. He got into his work out pants, grabbed a light hoodie, his keys and phone and made his way out. The sun was setting but it was summer, so still warm enough he could leave his jacket unzipped.

Once downstairs, he went for a jog and refused any thoughts that tried to interrupt him as he focused on his breathing. In and out, in and out. Nose and mouth. Nose and mouth. He had a route that was the least familiar - it didn’t go past the gardens where the tomb had been built, or the arcade he had once visited weekly, or any of his favorite restaurants.

He just wanted a blank backdrop around him for once.

It was dark when he got back up to his place. He paused at his door before opening it, looking to the next one over. Prompto and his neighbor - Gar - hadn’t really talked since that one night when he came by. He would see the guy in passing, but he clearly worked nights so it was only on the times when he would hang out at Gladio’s or something when their paths would actually cross.

He seemed nice enough. It was obvious the name was a fake, but a lot of people were trying to start fresh and so he got it. Prompto tried not to think too much about it. Everyone had their reasons for being disconnected from people, from society, from their past.

Sometimes Prompto wished he could be like that - just exist. Quietly.

He stepped inside his apartment and paused as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

On the floor in front of him was an envelope. There was no name on it, no postage either. It looked like it had been slid under his door.

Prompto slipped off his shoes and set down his phone and keys. Slowly he picked up the envelope and inspected it against the light. He could see paper inside, but nothing else.

He carried it with him into the kitchen, grabbed a knife and slid it across the top to open the letter. Upon inspecting inside, it was still just. Paper.

He held it upside down so the contents fell onto the counter.

It was a postcard from Galdin Quay. Like, before the world went to shit Galdin Quay. Bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds. Sparkling clear water. Prompto stared at it. He tapped his fingers on the counter. The edges of the postcard were yellowed with age. He dragged a finger down the side.

“Huh,” Prompto flipped over the postcard.

He stepped back as if burned.

It was _his_ writing. Prompto would recognize it anywhere.

He covered his mouth with a shaking hand.

* * *

Gladio set down his fork and sat back against his chair with a sigh. “Thanks, sweetie. That was great.”

Thalia watched him with a soft smile. “You’ll be alright at work?”

His fiancée understood what this time of year was to him. She was one of the few who did.

Gladio replayed many times the frantic voicemail he had left Thalia when he had pivoted mid-assignment to go to Hammerhead. They weren’t even engaged, then. But Gladio had let out all his feelings and thought well he had either just scared her or had proposed. And he wasn’t even sure if he would see the sun rise.

But she stuck around. He had gone dark for almost a week before he all but collapsed at the door of their tiny apartment in Lestallum. He had been exhausted, emotionally and physically, and all she knew was that the sun was up.

Until he had told her the cost.

So ya, she understood the weight of this time of year.

“I’ll be fine tonight.” He didn't touch on the undercurrent of that thought; they weren't quite at the year anniversary of the sun returning - or the anniversary of Noct’s burial. Each day closer was new ground, unseen territory, and he wasn’t sure how things would progress.

All he knew for sure was that it had been a year he hadn’t expected to have. He wasn’t a Shield anymore, because there wasn’t a king. Ignis had tried to convince him to lead the Crownsguard as they struggled to find their place in the new way of things. Gladio had left

Gladio got up, collected their plates and rinsed them off in the sink. He heard movement behind him, and arms wrapped around his waist.

“Love you,” Thalia whispered.

“Love _you._” Gladio turned and tilted her chin up, kissing her softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She hummed and patted his arm, stepping away as he made to leave for work. It was a big shift to go from being trained his whole life to be a shield, to running a bar. Kinda the same in weird ways. But it had been a way for him to keep giving back to the community by giving folks a place to go and find some respite in a safe place.

Ignis had scoffed at the name of it, _sanctificatio noctis, _but really was he surprised? Gladio did have a flair for the dramatic when he felt like it.

Once at the bar, Gladio unlocked the door and swung it open. Old habits remained as he paused to take in the room before stepping inside. Usually that just meant letting his eyes adjust to the dim space and then remember that there was no reason for anyone hiding with the intent of attacking.

This time, though, Gladio was immediately drawn to the ground where an envelope lay. He stepped forward and slowly crouched to the ground. He flicked at it, and it moved easily, so clearly nothing heavy was inside. He picked it up by the corner. There was _something _inside, like paper. He rose and walked over to the bar and got out his switch knife, slicing the top open.

He pulled out a postcard. The edges were yellowed from age, but the picture was something he would never forget - it was a shot of Ravatogh.

“Huh.”

He flipped over the card, hoping that would reveal more about why someone had sent this.

His hands hovered as he stared down at the all too familiar handwriting.

* * *

Ignis opened the door to his office after a long day of meetings. He was looking forward to finishing up and getting home for some dinner and taking his mind off work.

While he appreciated the people of Insomnia wanted to celebrate the year anniversary of the sun returning, for Ignis such a time was one of mourning, fully and completely. But this was what he was to do now, to give the people that which would help _them_ heal and move forward. Ignis would never be given that same chance.

The loss of Noctis would be nestled in his chest for the rest of his life.

As he stepped inside, his foot hit something - a sort of paper, it had felt like.

“Talcott,” Ignis paused and waited until footsteps stopped beside him, “is there something on the floor?”

“Oh, um,”

Ignis waited as he listened to Talcott step forward. “It’s an envelope, sir.”

“Addressed to whom?

“It doesn’t say, should I open it?”

“Please, if you could.” Ignis found it strange someone had slipped him a handwritten note. Most knew and understood his situation. But considering it was in his office, he had to assume it was intended for him.

“It’s a postcard.”

That confused Ignis. He tilted his head towards Talcott. “A postcard?”

There weren’t any new postcards, as far as he was aware. Tourism was a long way from anything most people were thinking about.

“Ya, of Altissia? It’s an older postcard, though, or at least looks like, from the yellowed edges.”

“That is...odd. Anything else?”

A beat of silence, while he assumed Talcott was flipping over the card. “Just a note on the back. It says ‘thanks’.”

Ignis tightened his jaw and held his breath to shove away how his mind shouted that it had to be _him_, that he had to be out there somewhere and not in the tomb down in the gardens. That he wasn’t lying there, cold, unmoving, while Ignis still lived.

Ignis let out a controlled breath. “Would you mind taking me to Gladio?”

* * *

Noctis took his time heading back up to his place. He had picked up some burgers at the closest Kenny’s after his stop at the Citadel. He was surprised all his old ways of sneaking around still worked, and that security wasn’t tight. But he supposed that could have been a benefit of not having a monarchy.

He had made quick work of hopping in and out. He didn’t like being there - too many memories, the good and the bad all mixed together like a terrible cocktail. He had resisted the urge to stop by his old room, to see what had been done with it. Or the throne room, to see how it had been restored.

He had already done more than he should have by even setting foot inside that place. He was lucky he hadn’t been caught.

The elevator doors opened on his floor. Down the hall, Prompto was pulling his door shut with one hand, and holding his phone with the other. He looked stressed and like he might have been crying.

“Look this is just. It’s too weird, right?” Prompto dropped his keys once, twice, then finally managed to lock his door. Noctis took his time walking down the hallway so as not to startle him.

Prompto didn’t even give Noctis a look as he moved past and into the elevator. “I know I know but, what if, Gladio? What if?”

The elevator closed and the rest of the conversation was lost to him. Noctis opened the door to his apartment. He immediately noticed the figure standing at the window overlooking the city.

He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

“Sure, make yourself at home, Umbra.” Noctis set down his bag of food on the counter and pulled out fries and a burger.

“You think you’re so smart,” Umbra turned around to face him.

Noctis shrugged and sat on a stool, popping a fry in his mouth.

“I don’t think I'm much of anything, these days.”

Umbra stalked forward. Noctis often wondered if being in the body of a dog for so many years had left him with some behaviors that somehow reflected that time. Like now, how he stepped forward with slow and steady steps and narrowed yellow eyes.

“All you’ve accomplished tonight is giving your grieving friends false hope. Why would you torture them this way?”

Their eyes met. Noctis ate another fry. “I wanted closure.”

“For who? Because it is certainly not for them.”

Noctis looked down. He knew it was reckless, but he didn’t want to admit that to Umbra. Not now. “It was...I just wanted to tell them. One more time.”

Umbra clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re selfish. You’re risking their lives for your own guilty conscience?”

“It’s not about guilt!” Noctis slammed his hand flat against the counter. “They gave their lives, their heart and soul, for me, and I can never thank them enough.”

Something shifted in Umbra’s face for half a second. Noctis had to believe Umbra understood what he was going through, on some level. After all, he had rebelled against his task and had been punished.

And Noctis wouldn’t forgo his new duty. But did that also mean he had to just sit and watch while his friends suffered?

“Everyone who experiences loss of someone close will always feel like they never had enough time.”

Noctis had lost his appetite. He threw the rest of his food back into the bag. “I’m tired.”

Umbra made no effort to move. “You have a new purpose. You should be focusing on that. You’ve nearly missed three of your jobs this week.”

“Nearly.” He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge. “As long as it gets done, what’s the matter?”

Umbra just watched him as he moved, and again Noctis thought about a creature stalking their prey. “You shouldn’t be sloppy. One day it could cause irrevocable damage to the person’s very soul. Just because you are mad doesn’t mean you can punish others.”

That made Noctis pause. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. But he also didn’t want to do _this_. To be reaping, to be alive. Yet not.

He felt the bed sink as Umbra sat beside him, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I know this is hard, Noctis.” His voice was softer than before. “But it will grow easier, with time.”

Part of him wanted to scream. He had been wanting to since that first night - scream at the top of the rooftops and break shit, run next door to Prompto and tell him all the dumb shit only he would know about their time together. Go into Gladio’s bar and have a drink with his friends. Watch Ignis thrive in rebuilding Insomnia.

“I’m going to sleep.” He didn’t look at Umbra. He pulled away and stretched on his side.

Umbra got up. “I’ve left your new assignments on the counter.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Footsteps, the sound of the door opening. Then closing. Noctis laid there in silence, wanting more than anything to not be alone, yet having no one he could reach out to. There wasn’t even the familiar sound of music playing next door, because Prompto was out.

Because of Noctis.

Tears rolled down his cheek. He rubbed at his face with the sleeve of his jacket and took a shuddering breath.

It took every bit of him to not go tearing through the streets to Gladio’s bar where he was sure they were all comparing the postcards. He hadn’t really planned on doing such a thing, but in a thrift shop he had stumbled upon the postcards. And in that moment, he just needed to do _something. _

Umbra’s words, about giving his friends false hope, echoed in his mind.

He stopped trying to wipe away the tears.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You missed your job this morning. For what?” Umbra reached over and grabbed the envelope where Prompto’s name and number were on display. “For this? A past you cannot go back to? This is dangerous and stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation from the prompt _While checking the post Character A finds that a letter has been sent from their deceased partner. Because apparently I liked the hurt of this. _
> 
> ***
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you are all staying safe during this time. I will admit it's been a rough month for me personally, and writing has been a bit more of a struggle unfortunately, so I hope this still uh, works? How do words work, I don't know anymore. But your comments and messages give me some of that inspiration and drive back to at least try to make it work, so thank you for your support.

Noctis woke up the next morning with a killer headache. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths. It was another day. He supposed he should be thankful he was able to still breathe and live. But it was getting harder and harder to feel that way. He stretched his hands out in front of him and looked at the tops of them, their coloring, the veins, the fingernails. None of it was _him. _

It was still so weird and foreign to not be himself.

He rolled out of bed and headed to the counter. The sight of a large white envelope made him sigh.

He didn't want to do any reaper work on any given day. But his distaste for the work was particularly high this morning. He ignored it and went to scrounge for breakfast. All too quickly he realized he didn’t have much aside from some leftovers that were becoming questionable even by his standards.

He threw a small-scale tantrum in his head and then convinced himself to get dressed into a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie. It was almost noon, but this was why he worked the night shift. He tossed on a baseball cap and spared the envelope one more glance.

Whatever job Umbra had could wait until after breakfast. Umbra knew Noctis’s routines and wouldn't give him an assignment this early.

Not anymore, at least.

He was pretty sure Umbra had learned from the last time he tried. That had been the first time Noctis had come face to face with just how important his new role in the world was - and Noctis didn’t like it. But if he tried to run, Umbra would find him, that much he knew for sure.

Noctis yawned as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

When he opened his eyes, he saw two familiar figures walking towards him from the elevator.

“Hey Spec-” Noctis caught himself just as the two snapped their heads up to Noctis. He immediately held his phone to his ear.

“Ya, ya of course the _specs _are uh, right.” He chanced a look to his left while he locked the door.

Gladio knocked on Prompto’s door while Ignis still looked in Noctis’s direction. The two whispered to each other, but then Prompto was there greeting them and letting them inside.

Noctis scrambled to get back into his apartment and threw himself onto his bed. He sat up against the wall with the side of his face pressed against it. This was the first time he’d ever seen Ignis and Gladio come over, so he figured something had to be _up._

“You guys didn't have to come here,” Prompto’s voice was the kind of cheery that meant he absolutely didn’t want to be alone despite what he was saying.

“You were rather upset last night.”

“Ya, we wanted to check on you.”

Noctis wrung his blanket in his hands. The guilt came creeping back into his chest at what he was putting his friends through.

“Look, it's just that you guys won't even consider the chance. It’s all so final to you.”

“What, you think for a second I don’t want that? For him to be alive?”

“Gladio,” Ignis’s soothing tone made Noctis want to melt into the walls for even an ounce of that comfort, “We buried him, Prompto. His body lies in his tomb. You and most of Insomnia witnessed it. What else should we believe?”

Silence stretched out. Noctis closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to ground himself.

“It's just. So weird.”

“I know we haven’t been able to sort out who delivered mine nor Gladio’s unfortunately, but did anyone here see anything?”

“Here? I don't know, wouldn’t even know who to ask.”

“What about that guy next door?”

Noctis opened his eyes wide.

“He’s pretty quiet, I’ve only talked to him once really…”

Their brief conversation just inside Prompto’s apartment hadn’t lasted for long. Noctis had just wanted to make sure Prompto didn’t think Noctis hated him, but he didn’t overstay his welcome. Their conversation over a beer was mostly on how they were trying to adjust. As usual, Prompto had no issue with wearing a mask to hide his emotions as he talked about a range of things, while Noctis listened and nodded along. The familiarity had creeped under his skin and he worried Prompto felt the same.

Noctis hadn’t stayed after the first beer, and neither mentioned they should get together again.

“He looked familiar.” Gladio spoke. Nervousness welled up in Noctis’s throat.

“Oh, ya, he’s the same guy who was at your bar back on Winter Solstice.”

“Perhaps we should check with him.” Of course, Ignis would suggest this. Of fucking _course. _“It is possible he saw something.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Noctis cursed under his breath. There was the sound of movement and a door. He wanted to jump out the window. Hide somewhere. Then he remembered, he could just not open the door. They saw him in the hallway. Maybe they would just think he had left.

He stayed sitting on the bed, watching the front door. Within seconds there were knocks. Noctis chewed on his bottom lip.

“He musta left when we saw him.”

“Hm, I didn’t hear footsteps, nor the elevator.”

Shit, Ignis would be able to hear that kind of thing. Noctis debated, debated…

“Look can we just forget about it?” Prompto sounded so let down. Once again Noctis had hurt him without meaning to.

He quietly walked to the bathroom. He flushed the toilet, and splashed water on his face. Another set of knocks. He took in a breath and didn't look at his reflection.

He walked to the door and opened it, slowly, as if he didn’t know who was on the other side.

Gladio was the one standing in front of him, Ignis besides, and Prompto behind them both.

“Oh!” Prompto’s eyes lit up and he pushed himself forward between the other two. “You’re home.”

Noctis tried to act way more casual than how he felt. “Uh, yeah.”

“Sorry to bug, you have a second?”

Like Noctis could ever say no to Prompto’s puppy-eyed look. Noctis didn’t move to open the door hoping they could wrap this up fast. “Sure, what’s up?”

Ignis tilted his head towards Noctis. “May we come in? This is not really a conversation for the hallway.”

"Uh, my place is a mess."

"We will not judge."

Noctis, out of a habit he had when Ignis requested something he knew he would get in trouble for, looked at Prompto. For half a beat they were back twelve years ago.

He schooled his expression and looked at Ignis. It would be more suspicious if he said no. "Sure, but I warned you." He stepped back and opened the door. The three of them filed in, but Noctis caught how they looked around the place, as if tracking for any signs of danger. Old habits die hard, even without Noctis around. He almost felt a little better about his own brief regression.

They gathered in the weird open space between Noctis's bed and the kitchen.

"I uh, don't have anything to offer for drinks, I was about to go to the store."

"It's quite alright, this shouldn't take long." Ignis gestured to Prompto.

"Right! So ya, sorry to barge in, but we just. Yesterday, did you see anyone um...new or strange? Here?"

"New?"

"Ya someone that you haven't seen around the apartments before."

Noctis shook his head. "Not that I recall."

"Damn." Prompto sagged his shoulders and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

"You’re sure?" Gladio stared down at Noctis and of course his response was to puff up a little.

"Pretty sure, but I also don't get out much. Except for work."

Prompto poked Gladio’s bicep. “Leave him alone he said he didn't see anything." Then he turned and looked at Noctis. "Sorry to bug you dude."

This didn't help things, just made the ache in Noctis’s chest hurt more. "It's cool, do you need me to keep an eye out for anyone?"

Ignis shook his head but Prompto’s eyes widened a little. “Ya if you don't mind?”

The way Gladio and Ignis looked at Prompto...Noctis wanted to do everything he could to make the hurt go away even a little.

"Sure, easy enough."

"Prompto -"

"Iggy just. Just in case, alright?"

Gladio and Ignis sighed. Noctis tried not to stare or to have an ounce of sympathy. He wasn't supposed to know what was going on, who they were looking for.

“Just if you see uh, a guy, about my height,” Prompto held a hand up to the top of his head, “dark hair. Blue eyes kinda--”

Prompto squinted, then stepped closer to Noctis, “kinda like yours? Actually. whoa. That’s wild, Gladio -”

Every nerve in his body felt like it was electric. Noctis crossed his arms and held his breath.

“Ya, blue eyes. What's the big deal.”

Ignis stood still and quiet. Listening.

Prompto and Gladio stared each other down, until finally Prompto relented and looked back to Noctis. “Sorry just. Haven't seen anyone else with blue eyes like...that similar. I guess.”

"Don't worry about it."

"Ok so ya - someone like that just. Here -" Prompto walked over to the counter. He grabbed a pen and wrote on the envelope - Noctis had to literally clench his muscles to keep himself from rushing over and pulling Prompto back. He wouldn't open the envelope. Even if he did it's not like he would understand the contents.

Prompto smiled and tapped on the counter. "There, that's my cell. Just. text me if you see anything weird. or! Oh, if you see a dog."

"A dog?"

"Prompto," Ignis’s voice was stern.

"Ya black and gray, scar along its nose. Goes by the name Umbra."

For a heartbeat Noctis wants to say he’d seen the dog. Because well. That wasn’t a lie. But he knew the weight of such a statement, what it would mean for them, and the disappointment it would bring. Noctis had done enough with the postcards.

"Got it, guy and a dog." Noctis gave a relaxed salute and smiled.

Prompto smiled back and gave a thumbs up. "Thanks! Appreciate it.” He looked back to the other two. Noctis couldn't help following Prompto's gaze - Gladio did not look excited.

"Come on Prompto, we gotta go." Gladio grumbled as he walked towards the door.

Noctis didn’t turn to watch them, pretending to tidy up the counter. He heard the door open.

“Oh, uh, shit, sorry didn't expect anyone…”

Noctis looked up to see Gladio standing with the door partly open.

“Likewise.”

Noctis froze in place at the voice from the hallway. Gladio opened the door completely and between shoulders Noctis could see Umbra in the hallway. Glaring.

Prompto of course, bounced forward. "Ohey! Do you live here too?"

“No,” Umbra didn't even look at Prompto when he answered, his stare very much focused on Noctis. The three filed out and Umbra moved past them, closing the door before anything else could be said or asked.

Noctis avoided cowering away from Umbra's angry stare as Umbra took several steps towards him.

“What the hell, Noctis?” For the first time he sounded truly angry.

“They came over on their own! I swear!” He wouldn’t say that he could have just not answered the door. Wouldn’t say how much he just wanted to invite them in and have some beers with them.

“You missed your job this morning. For what?” Umbra reached over and grabbed the envelope where Prompto’s name and number were on display. “For this? A past you cannot go back to? This is dangerous and stupid.”

“I didn’t ask for that! He gave it on his own.”

“That doesn't matter. You can't keep doing this. You have a new purpose now and those people, they depend on you.” Umbra waved the envelope in Noctis’s face. “You need to move.”

Noctis swatted at Umbra’s hand. “I can’t keep running!”

Umbra lowered his hand, and his expression soured. “Did you ever stop to think I might also care, just a little, what happens to you? To them?” He took the pieces of paper out of the envelope and threw them on the bed.

“Ya well you have a funny way of showing it, Umbra!”

Umbra pinched his lips together and held up the envelope to the side. In a blink it was engulfed in flames, until the ashes of the paper were all that remained in his hand.

Noctis looked towards the wall and held back the anger and tears building up inside him. He heard the door to Prompto’s apartment close, meaning Ignis and Gladio were probably leaving. And he knew deep down Umbra was _right_ which made this even worse. He didn’t have a way to contact Prompto, and he would have to move, and Umbra would probably keep a closer eye on him until he didn’t fuck up his assignments. Noctis should have just been a silent observer and content in knowing his friends were moving on with their lives.

Loud, frantic knocks at his door made them both jump. “Open up!”

_ Gladio.  
  
  
_

Umbra cursed. A realization hit Noctis and he grabbed Umbra’s shoulder. “The walls, they’re super thin. I can always hear Prom-”

“Fuck!” Umbra hissed. They looked at each other, then the door.

Once again Noctis considered all the possible escape routes to get them out of this. Umbra charged forward to lock the door and Noctis went in the opposite direction.

“The window, come on!”

He got to the window and turned back as he pushed it open at the same time the door flew open.

Umbra was knocked to the ground. And Noctis lost all ability to move as Gladio reached down and grabbed Umbra by the shirt, eyes full of fury and teeth bared.

“Who the fuck, are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ///lies down


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I wish…_
> 
> _I wish I could talk to them all again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wasn't sure I would have something for today, but then the ffxv book club discord had their sprint event yesterday and the prompt was: 
> 
> _Noctis makes a wish as he blows out the candle on his cake - and it comes true._
> 
> and well. happy birthday, noct? my gift is some small progress on this story. :333

It had been Noct’s birthday, a few weeks ago. But of course, for him it had been like any other day. He took on his jobs from Umbra when he woke up, and worked his shift at the restaurant that night. No one wished him a happy birthday. There were no cards, no balloons, no cake.

There had been celebrations for the Noctis Insomnia had known; the one with dark hair and pale skin and a lopsided smile. The one who had died almost a year ago. The one who had brought back the sun.

_That _ Noctis received an overwhelming amount of love at his tomb - flowers, signs, cupcakes, and on and on. He couldn’t avoid hearing about it all around him, on the radio, the television at work, the people talking over their dinner. The chefs going on about their celebrations after work, how they would be toasting the king.

Because they didn’t know Noctis was alive. That he was living in a small cramped space and celebrating the day alone. That he had long unruly blond hair and a face he hated looking at in the mirror.

That night had been one of the harder nights since his return. By the time he got home from his shift, there were so many fireworks that nothing he did could block the sound.

The anniversary of the sun returning would be more somber, he had heard on the radio. This day was intended to celebrate his life.

Noctis had stood at the window watching the world celebrate him.

He had felt silly, lighting the singular candle on the small cupcake he had bought from the convenient store on his way home from work. He at first had ignored it, sitting on his counter while he watched the city.

But he had wanted something. It felt childish and selfish. But there was no one around to judge him so what did it matter.

He watched the flame dancing on the wick. Watched the blue wax melt and drip onto the chocolate frosting.

Swallowing thickly, Noctis closed his eyes and held his breath.

_I wish…_

_I wish I could talk to them all again._

* * *

As Gladio towered over Umbra with anger in his eyes and Ignis and Prompto tried to pull him away, Noctis felt silly for making that wish weeks ago. It was like those fairy tales of be careful what you wish for, where you should read the fine print or be careful how you word things, so you don't get fucked.

“I said, who the fuck are you.” Gladio shook Umbra one more time before he finally released his grip.

Umbra adjusted his shirt and stepped towards Noctis. “What does it matter to you? And why are you storming in here?”

Noctis caught the look in Umbra’s eyes as he looked at him, one that read to stay quiet. Noctis bit the inside of his bottom lip and looked to his friends, now standing in a line blocking the door. If he tried to run, they would stop him. If he tried to leave through the window, they would follow. But what did they think they heard? Noctis couldn’t just blurt out _‘no I’m not your dead friend’_.

“We heard you,” the edge to Gladio’s voice had softened just enough that it made Noct’s chest tighten.

Umbra scoffed. “So, you’re trespassers and eavesdroppers.”

Gladio puffed up again and moved forward. “We all heard you say-”

Ignis lifted an arm to Gladio’s chest and he instantly paused. “Apologies, perhaps we misheard.” Ignis tilted his face so he was angled towards Prompto and Gladio. “We’ll leave you alone, right?”

When Gladio didn't reply, Prompto grabbed his forearm and pulled him back towards the door. “Yup, sorry, it’s just. You know. A lot going on. Sometimes we hear things.”

“It’s cool, you...you guys have been through a lot.”

Umbra tensed beside him, but didn’t draw attention to the fact the Noctis went against his silent plea.

“As have we all,” Ignis turned to follow Prompto, but Gladio gave Noctis one final look.

When their eyes met, there was more there than anger. Noctis felt stupid once again but he tried to say in his mind _Just go please. I'll only hurt you_, and he lifted a fist to his heart. Slowly.

Umbra was too busy watching them leave to notice.

Gladio blinked. The fight in him escaped in an exhale, and he let Prompto lead him out the door.

After the door shut them back into his solitary world, Umbra turned on Noctis. “Pack up. We leave by nightfall.”

Without another word and before he could even try to argue, Umbra walked across the room, then out the door, and was gone.

Noctis raced to his bed and hopped onto it, immediately pressing his ear to the wall. There were voices but they were clearly whispering and aware they could be heard. After a few minutes, music blared from the apartment to drown out any chance of listening to them talk.

Noctis sank to his knees and turned to rest his back against the wall. His mind raced - what could they be thinking? What could they even do? Noctis couldn’t let them approach him with any questions, he didn't know how the rules Umbra explained even worked.

He stared out over the room as the muffled music hung over him.

“Pack up,” Noctis whispered as he lightly bumped the back of his head on the wall. “Not like I have anything I actually care about in this room.”

He blinked. Sat up. Then scrambled off the bed.

He grabbed the one duffel bag and quickly threw in his few shirts, hoodies, and pants he had accumulated. The money he had saved up he pulled out of the small nightstand as well and shoved into his pocket. It wasn’t much but these days folks were reasonable and understanding with the situations of people.

With what he considered the essentials gathered, he dropped the bag at the door and went into the bathroom. He pulled the towel he had draped over the mirror down and stared at the stranger in the reflection.

“Sorry buddy,” he grabbed the electric razor, one of the first things he had gotten his hands on, and in just a few easy motions the floor was covered in blond hair.

The person in the mirror still wasn’t him. But when he put on the baseball cap, he felt a little more like himself.

The hair was disposed of in the toilet to make sure any evidence was gone. Once that was done, he stepped back into the room and looked over it. Nothing else was needed for what he was about to do.

The last thing though - he grabbed a napkin from the counter and scribbled down his phone number.

Noctis hoped he could figure this out.

Bag in hand he stepped into the hallway and locked the door. He could still hear the music from next door, and he hoped it meant Gladio and Ignis were still in there with Prompto. His heart raced as he walked up to the door. As he crouched down and slide the napkin under the door as quietly as possible. With the music they hopefully wouldn’t realize it was there right away.

He stood and carefully walked away, and took the stairs to ensure he wouldn’t be seen or heard. He held his breath until he was down on the street and had made it a few blocks away from his building.

Taxis were one of the first things to come back to Insomnia - public transit was still being worked on in a lot of places, and it created jobs for a lot of folks. So he hailed one and got into the backseat.

“Where to, sir?” The driver was young, probably around Talcott’s age.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he stared out the window. “Do you go out of the city?”

“I can, if you’ve got the cash.”

Noctis turned away from the window to meet the stare of the driver.

“Take me to Hammerhead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE'S MOVEMENT but is it good? Is it bad? Was Umbra bluffing? I TOO, WOULD LIKE TO KNOW.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis was glad to see people had moved forward. He hoped he could, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO HELLO yes this is still a thing. Thank you for all your patience. I was knee deep in two big bangs and zine work, so sadly this one had to go on hold. But I've had this part in my brain for months now, so it feels good to finally get it out and move this story forward. WHERE TO YOU MAY ASK i am asking the same, friends.

Despite knowing that he wouldn’t be recognized by anyone, there was a thread of anxiety weaving its way through Noctis’s body as they passed the sign stating they were just a mile away from Hammerhead Service Station.

It had been a few hours since he had skipped town. Umbra was probably on a warpath to find him. Noctis just hoped that he didn’t have the same capabilities as when he was a messenger and able to find him anywhere. He would have to keep making his way around the continent until he figured out his next steps, stay low profile, and hope he could stay hidden. He didn’t want to go immediately to the ferry, because that was probably what Umbra would expect.

It was hard to fight back thinking about what the others might be doing. If they were also looking for Noctis, the weird neighbor who maybe…

He coughed to hide the sad laugh escaping him. They would never in a million years even consider that Noctis could be alive, looking like someone else. That just was unheard of in all the things they ever learned, and he was sure if it was known, Ignis would have talked about it even as an option for them post-dawn. But the whole concept of Reapers was apparently some deeply hidden Lucis Caelum thing that once again proved the gods were just a bunch of dicks.

Pulling into the parking lot he got a little dizzy from the deja vu - the last time had been when Talcott had driven him here. But it already looked nearly like it had over ten years ago when they had pushed the poor Regalia into the Hammerhead lot.

The buildings and signs had gotten a paint job, and the giant lights and tall fences were gone. It once again felt welcoming, felt like the kinda place anyone could stop in at. Noctis hoped that was still the case, for his sake.

Noctis gave the driver way more money than he should have and got out of the car. He intended to earn more anyways. He took a deep breath as the taxi pulled away, the smell of cars and dust and grease a harsh pang of nostalgia. He tried to squash the part of him saying that this was probably a bad idea, that this would just make everything hurt more. But at least here he could just blend into the crowd and the people who stop through.

Scanning the area, he saw the garage door open, patrons walking out of the cafe, a bustling shop. There was even still the little caravan - though it did look a little more beat up than everything else. For a half second, he thought about staying the night, but then his brain caught up to the idea and shot it down.

Right.

First things first, Noctis needed to eat. He would pay a visit to Cid and Cindy after since there was a chance he would be put straight to work.

He was eager to get his hands on the Hammerhead Hot Sandwich for sure. He hadn’t found anything like it in Insomnia. And of course, no Ignis to replicate it.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder to distract himself from a spiral of depressing thoughts, Noctis walked across the pavement towards Taka’s Pit Stop.

Inside, it was like stepping back in time. Almost. More like, stepping back in time to a slightly alternate dimension. Like outside, everything inside was freshly painted and redone to look like new. The seats at the booths were a bright white, and the floor was a slick wooden floor instead of something like an old lady’s kitchen. There were more bar tables with actual stools to sit at, and more stools at the counter.

Noctis wished he could congratulate Taka on such a sweet looking upgrade. Instead, he had to walk in like he’d never been in there before. His surprise wasn’t faked though when he saw a pinball machine in the corner - that wasn’t there before for sure. He and Prompto had marked every single stop that had one of those because they would always play until they were about to pass out.

As one of the last places Noctis was himself, with his friends.

Taka was still behind the counter like old times, smiling and talking with someone at the far end.

Noctis slid onto a barstool on the opposite end and focused on the menu. There were more items than he had ever seen before; salads, fruit drinks, desserts.

“Huh,” he flipped the menu to the other side. The sandwich he remembered fondly was still being served. Something about that made his chest ache a little.

“Howdy friend,” Taka’s voice was another hit of ache. Looking up there was no recognition in Taka’s face and that stung, despite knowing that would be the case. “What can I get you?”

“Hammerhead sandwich, fries, and a soda?”

“You got it, kid.”

“Oh and, uh,” Noctis shifted a bit on the stool. He was usually not the one to ask about jobs in these situations. “Anything I can do to help out around here?”

Taka looked a little surprised at the offer. “Not ‘round these parts. We’re so close to Insomnia, we’ve got a steady stream of folks coming by on their way to Galdin Quay for the ferry. Go further along the road though, I’m sure folks could use the help.”

That solved if there were any hunts to go on. Made sense, if there were so few creatures out there to be considered pests right now.

After Taka moved away, Noctis took out his small notepad and a pen, and started to map out his plan. He knew from the news that there were new pockets throughout Duscae focused on rehabilitating the land and bringing animals that had been saved back into the wild. He remembered hearing about Sania, and Aranea, leading some of those efforts. If he could find their base of operations, Noctis was sure he could get a steady job helping them. It would be more rewarding than what he did in Insomnia; bussing tables and avoiding his friends.

Taka dropped off his food and Noctis barely remembered to say thanks. He ate the fries first, going slow as he kept mapping out rest stops he could stay at, how to get a chocobo from Wiz so he didn't have to hitchhike a lot. He thought about Holly, in Lestallum. He was sure there would be some work there, too.

Ya, he could do this. He could live out here, like they had once before. It couldn’t be hard to do when there weren’t any daemons to worry about, right?

Something twisted inside him at the thought of being out, camping, traveling, alone instead of with the others. But he had to push through the thoughts - they wouldn’t help him at all.

He set his notebook aside and finished his lunch, enjoying the ambiance around him. Taka, the sound of food cooking, the smell of the diner, people around him. The last time he had been there, it was dark, and the booths had been pulled out to make room for supplies and rations.

Noctis was glad to see people had moved forward. He hoped he could, too.

He put money down on the counter, and waved to Taka as he left. First up, he would talk to Cid and see if he could take on some work helping in the garage. He was sure he and Cindy had their hands full, especially considering Cid couldn’t do too much of the heavy lifting these days.

Nearing the garage, he could hear tools whirring loudly. Cindy, hard at work, he was sure.

When he stepped inside and his eyes adjusted, he didn’t see Cid - but he saw Cindy leaning over inspecting the hood of a truck.

“Alright, did you see- ya, that one. Just a quick twist and- perfect!” Cindy bounced up as she cheered. Noctis then noticed there was someone on the roller, under the car.

Cindy went to get inside the car, but she caught sight of Noctis. He couldn’t help but think about what she saw when she looked at him - scrawny blond guy in need of a shave wearing a worn-out hoodie, jeans, and combat boots. Noctis kinda hated that the last person to see the real him was Umbra, not anyone else.

“Oh, hey there, can I help ya?”

“Oh uh,” He looked around again, “wanted to see if you need a spare set of hands? I’m travelling through, thought I could offer.”

“Oh!” Cindy stepped towards him, pulling a rag out of her pocket to wipe off her hands. “Awfully sweet of ya, but actually we’re all good right now if you’d believe it.”

“What?” He realized too late how that probably sounded, “I mean, really? I figured everyone needs some help out here with something.”

She hummed and looked behind her as the person under the car rolled out. “We’ve had a pretty steady stream of folks coming by actually, helped us get this place cleaned up right and got us caught up on things. It’s been long enough we seem to be okay.”

“Plus,” she pointed back behind her, “I got Stella here helping me out full-time.”

Noctis looked over Cindy’s shoulder as Stella sat up. He blinked and stepped around Cindy.

“Hey, mister?” Cindy’s voice faded as Noctis kept walking towards Stella.

Stella, who had pale skin, platinum blonde hair, and big blue eyes Noctis could never, ever in his entire life forget.

“Luna?” He stopped arm’s length as she stood up, studying him with the same stare.

“Noct?” She whispered.

“I…” He managed to remember where they were. He looked back at Cindy, who was watching them closely. “...ya?”

Luna leapt forward and hugged him. Noctis dropped his bag to cling to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! What do you think of this development? :333

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm not sure yet where this would go, but it was fun to explore an initial concept around this AU idea. Please let me know what you thought! 8D


End file.
